Pick me up gently,
set me straight,
remind me where I come from,
where I’m going,
not a robot, banging head
against the wall,
time and again
confounded by a corner

You set my face
towards the wide spaces
where the sun summons
the morning mist
and slowly melts it off,
rolling out brightness,
rolling out blue

And all the angles I was worrying
dissolve — there are no corners here —
just the day,
the love-sourced day.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 30, 2017